The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Glacial ice sheets cover the entire surface of a seemingly abandoned research station, and the air's got this crisp, thin quality that makes every sound razor-sharp, umm, like you could shatter the air itself if you yelled too loud. Umm, sunlight filters down from above, casting this eerie pale blue glow over everything, and the silence is punctuated only by the low hum of what looks like some kind of ancient, crystalline artifact lodged in the ice, slowly generating these perfect, miniature tornadoes that pop in and out of existence at random intervals.